Goodbye Love
by HelenaKyle
Summary: Roger finds April after her suicide.
1. Chapter 1

Roger Davis hummed to himself as he walked toward the flat he shared with four other people. One of those people was his girlfriend, April. Soon to be fiancé if things went well tonight. He clutched the ring he'd bought after his gig this evening. April hadn't been there to see him perform, which was odd as she'd always come before. She'd actually been absent a lot over the last few weeks, ever since they'd gone in together to get tested for AIDS. She'd been having trouble dealing with the fact that one of his best friends, one of their roommates, Collins had AIDS. She'd avoided touching him or anything that he'd touched since he'd told them. Hell, Roger was having trouble dealing with it, himself. Collins was more like a brother than a friend.

He hoped to cheer April up by proposing tonight. At first, she'd jokingly mentioned a dream she'd had. A dream in which they were married with kids. She'd laughed it off by claiming she was too young to get married and telling him not to even think about it. But, later, after a day full of love and laughter but no thoughts of sex, drugs, or rock 'n' roll, she'd changed her mind. She'd said that getting married didn't sound so bad anymore. He'd taken that sentiment to heart, though she had no idea he'd considered it anything but a joke.

He really didn't doubt what her answer would be once she got over the shock. He loved her and she loved him, why not make it official? It would be the perfect ending to a perfect day. There had been a record producer at this performance and he was starting to think that his band just might make it to the big time. He'd become a real rock star and have the woman he loved at his side while he did it.

The others weren't back yet. Which was all to the good, as far as he was concerned. They weren't too far behind him, which would give him just enough time to propose before they returned. And then April could be the one to share the good news.

The apartment was quiet when he entered. Not unusual when just one or two of them were home and nothing to really worry about. "April, baby?" He called out with a grin. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face…

There was no answer, but he didn't worry. The bathroom door was closed and she probably just hadn't heard him. He slipped the ring out of his pocket and clutched the bottle of expensive champagne he'd bought to celebrate in his other hand as he moved to the bathroom door.

He knocked on the door. "April?" And was surprised when it moved under his hand, not latched…He frowned and pushed it the rest of the way open. He didn't notice when the bottle he held slipped out of his hand and shattered on the floor.

The world began to spin as he took in the scene. So much red…and April…April on the floor amidst all that red, a bloody shard of glass beside her…The mirror was smashed and it was one of those pieces she'd used to slit her wrists. In the sink was a blood covered note which he picked up with trembling hands. It contained only three words:

**We've Got AIDS.**


	2. Chapter 2

His first thought was that it wasn't real. It was just a nightmare that he would wake up from at any moment…And straight on the heels of that thought came the one that said April had the right of it. This was a death sentence. Wouldn't it be better to go quick and by your own choice? This thought seemed so right that he collapsed to his knees next to his love, heedless of the blood he was getting all over himself. He reached for the bloody shard of glass. The same one April had used to take her life. He would be with her one way or another.

He was mesmerized by the way the light reflected off the glass, the way the whole room seemed to look red. Like some scene out of a horror movie or something. Still in a kind of trance, he brought the glass to his wrist. As he drew the first drops of blood, he was shocked by the sudden grip on his hands.

He hadn't heard anyone come home, but here was Collins…"Don't you even think about joining her, brother. This isn't worth that."

Wasn't worth it? How could he say that? He had the death sentence, too! April had been right, Collins was a fool. They all were. Trying to pretend that this was no big deal, that everything would be fine. Nothing was ever going to be fine again.

This was his fault. April was his fault…He hadn't been enough for her. He'd chosen the road of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll, and he'd taken her down with him. Her parents had been right all along in their disapproval of him, their opinion that he was bad for their daughter…

He'd dropped the glass when Collins had grabbed him and now he pulled away. "Not worth it?" He snarled. "Not worth it?" He shifted to move away from Collins, wincing as he felt the blood, April's blood, cover his hands. "My girlfriend gives me a death sentence and then splatters herself all over the bathroom, and it's not worth it?" He'd swung from depression to near hysteria in the space of seconds. "I'll tell you what's not worth it. This. Life! What's left for me now?" He continued before Collins could reply. "Nothing, that's what!"

Collins reached for him again and he avoided the touch. "Get out!" And when that got no results: "Fine! I'll get out!" Despite Collins trying to stop him, he scrambled to his feet and managed to make it to his bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind him.

He leaned on the door and ignored the pounding. Ignored the shouting, the orders, the pleas…anything to get him to open the door. He ignored the fact that it wasn't just Collins, but Mark as well, trying to get in.

He pushed away from the door and went to the place where he kept his stash. "Fuck!" It was empty. Not only had April taken his love and his life, she'd taken the one thing that could make him feel better…or be his downfall depending on how he chose to use it.

This revelation threw him into a destructive rage, which he took out on everything in the room that even remotely reminded him of the girl. Which was pretty much everything there. He was shredding the last of his sheet music and on his way to smash the guitar to pieces when Mark flung himself in front of the instrument. "Roger, no!"

He hadn't even noticed that they'd gotten the door open, but suddenly Mark was there. Not a smart place for him to be. Roger gripped Mark roughly and literally threw him out of the way, heedless of the grunt of pain as Mark hit the dresser or of Collins picking Mark up and telling him to let Roger destroy whatever he wanted. Telling him they could always buy more of the stuff before pulling Mark back out of the room.

Later Roger would often wonder why he spared that guitar. In his grief and pain and madness…something had gotten through. He never knew if it had been the look of devastation on Mark's face as he attempted to protect the instrument or something else entirely. But, it didn't seem to matter. The guitar had survived intact even if nothing and no one else had.


End file.
